One of the advantages of spending a weekend with my friends in Philadelphia is experiencing how others sleep. Both of my roommates, sometime past midnight, decided to begin snoring — as I waited for the slumbers of sleep to wash over me. One of them, whose initials are BJ, began quickly and made fast work of getting to his apex. He began to sound a bit like a honker. This continued for a good ten minutes when the other, whose initials are KZ, decided to take upon himself a contest between the two.
Suddenly it went from a honker, a light one to be sure, to a double cacauphony of snoring. BJ honking away and KZ sawing wood — when suddenly KZ let out a flourish unlike anything I’ve ever heard. He began to sound like a loon, suddenly startled and seeking an escape — whoop, whoop, whoop, whoop, whoop, whoop — and then, as if knowing he was about to let out the distinct final sound of a loon, suddenly stopped, trailed off to silent sleeping, and he was done for the night. I could hardly contain myself from laughing aloud.
Snoring is one of life’s secrets, but KZ’s got it mastered.